


The Accompanist

by tmwillson3



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Kilts, Oldies song references, Potionless - Freeform, Renaissance Faires, no brogue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-20 20:11:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3663426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmwillson3/pseuds/tmwillson3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dawn's getting married, and Marianne agrees to sing something special for her.  The problem is that she can't find anyone to play with her.  An angry encounter at a coffeehouse, though, might change that, and more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Meeting

There it goes.

There it goes again.

And again.

For the last hour, the same opening chords to Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water” were being played, each time more lifeless than the last. Were they trying to kill what little love he had for such a simple, already overplayed song?

Obviously so.

That. Is. It!

Bog flew up from the table. He could not take it anymore. He was going to walk over there and put that poor guitar out of its misery one way or the other, whether by taking the guitar, or by stopping the fingers from playing again. He preferred the latter idea, as he already owned two guitars.

Picking up his laptop and coffee, Bog left the highly-coveted table next to the outlet at the popular coffee shop. He headed upstairs, where a stage was set up for open mic nights held on the weekends. Today, apparently, was early practice, or so he hoped. He had seen signs of some sort for guitarists littering the shop for two weeks, so now must be the time.

When Bog got to the top of the stairs, he saw a line of five men with guitars, while on stage there was a brunette woman with a clipboard, standing regally as she watched another man make “Smoke on the Water” sound like a children’s lullaby. The guy playing had not been paying long by Bog’s observations, as the guy’s technique was atrocious, and even the woman (who was rather attractive with her hair in a pixie cut) seemed to be cringing as she watched. Why was she not stopping such crimes against their ears and Deep Purple? If she would not, then he would.

“Stop! Stop this right now! You, yes you, playing with the newly bought guitar onstage who doesn’t know how to play. Stop playing, or else.”

Almost dropping his guitar mid-song, the guitar player in question stopped playing once Bog started shouting and looking all dark and menacingly at him, and by the time Bog stopped talking, the guitarist was packed to go.

The other men in line snickered at the guitarist until Bog turned to them, his sneering words only making him seem more frightening.

“And how many of you are noobs like that guy there? Anyone else want to lose their guitars, or worse?”

With such threats hanging above their heads (literally, since Bog was a head taller than all of them), the five men soon dispersed, leaving the now-angry brunette on stage, fingers tapping irritably on the clipboard. Bog opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it just as fast as the woman chose that moment to start yelling at him. That she began to circle him, flitting about quickly as though flying, did not help him to keep up with her at first.

“What do you think you’re doing? Who do you think you are? What right have you to interrupt something that I paid good money to reserve-“

“Frankly, I’m doing both of us a favor. I saw the way you looked at them, don’t try to deny it. You thought they were just as bad as I did. Whatever reason you brought them here, it is not worth it. I’ve been listening since they began, and none of them sound good, one just as lifeless as the rest.”

“While that may be, I still need an accompanist. How do you suggest I fix that?”

She tapped her foot while waiting for him to answer, while he did his best to scare her by standing over her. 

“Advertise better, or look for musicians at other venues. All the ones here are crap.”

The woman sighed before saying with an exasperated tone, “I’ve already tried that, Mister-“

“Bog. My friends call me Bog. You are?”

“Marianne. Wait, Bog, as in Bog of Eternal Stench?”

Bog crinkled his nose in annoyance before answering.

“I can see quite clearly how you feel about me now.”

Marianne blushed as she said, “No, I didn’t mean it like that! I was making reference to a movie I like-“

“That conveniently also insults me after I scared away your possibilities.”

“Really now? While I am upset about that, I still meant nothing else by calling you that. I just wanted to see if your name really was that unique.”

“Yes it is, for your information. My parents came from Scotland, and they wanted a way to remember their homeland, with a rather unconventional name.” 

“An unconventional name that just happens to match the personality.”

“You know nothing about me, Marianne-“

Marianne was running at him now, and everything flew out in a rush as she tried to make her point. Bog quickly realized that he had a feisty one on his hands. 

“Except for the fact that you are willing to interrupt my session to find an accompanist for my younger sister’s wedding after months of searching, and then you come in without asking any questions or being polite enough to wait until it was all done, which wouldn’t have been long. You’re also a music snob, who may or may not have any discernible musical ability of your own-“

“As for interrupting in the name of helping your sister, I’m sorry.”

He only paused for a moment, as politeness was something that he had always been taught by his mother (even if it was one of the few things that she had taught him). Then, he continued on.

“Still, the sound was grating beyond belief. As for being a music snob without talent,” he said, picking up a lonely guitar that had been left discarded by a scared wannabe, “I took violin lessons for eight years before learning guitar, and have been playing that since. The next time that you want to use Deep Purple, at least choose a more challenging song, like ‘Mistreated’. It’s a better, less known song.”

Marianne was about to object to his criticisms of her song choice when she heard the guitar. Then he started singing as well, and she stopped, curious to hear him. 

He started off with the first couple well-known lines of being abused and mistreated, and then an evil grin overtook his already long, bony face as he changed the words to “Cause I know, that my ears, have been mistreated/Since you forced them to play, I’ve been losing my mind, you know I have-“

“Yes, yes, I get your point,” said Marianne, putting her hand on the guitar to stop him, “and it’s clear that you’re talented. You just say the word, and you can have the job.“

“No thanks. I don’t do silly, romantic stuff like weddings. I don’t do love, or at least the commercialized love of today.”

Marianne gave him a confused look before smiling and saying, “Yes, I feel the same! Normally, I would never do this for a wedding, but she’s my only sister, and the guy she’s marrying has been her best friend for years, so I know him well. Otherwise, I’d never touch it. I’ve already decided that I’m not getting married.”

“Hmph. Doubtful. Pretty girls like you always do. But all the same, I’m not interested. I have a day job, and I’ll stick to that. Good day.”

With that, Bog stomped out of the room, grabbing his stuff as he left, leaving Marianne still standing there open-mouthed. When Bog got to the entrance of the coffeehouse, he saw one of her signs. It was then that he realized why every person who owned a guitar had come: she was offering over $750 an hour to play with her, assuming they were willing to learn whatever she asked. It was tempting, but having to answer to her did not appeal to him. He was his own boss, and he planned to keep it that way. He did not need or want her, even if she was attractive, in a small, pixieish way. Besides, he would never see her again.

Marianne left the coffeehouse soon after Bog, ready to punch the lights out of any person who tried to stop her from leaving. The nerve of that guy! And that name. No matter, she would find someone else who was just as talented with voice and guitar. She still had plenty of time to find someone, and she did not need him. She hoped that she would never see him again.

Of course, neither knew that the other was planning to go the local renaissance festival in two weeks on the same day. Which left plenty of time to talk to others about the encounter afterward.


	2. Chapter 2: The Peanut Gallery

“And I can’t get him out of my head….”

Several moments later, Marianne realized what she was saying and then shook her head as she walked from her car after listening to Electric Light Orchestra’s song of a similar name.  The guy named Bog had rushed in and out of her life only an hour ago, and she was still thinking about him.  How odd, and very bad. 

“Bad Marianne! This cannot be happening.  You’ll never see him again, and if Dawn were to hear you-“

“Marianne, is that you singing?”

Marianne tried to shake her head no, but Dawn was smiling knowingly as she got up and took off her gardening gloves and shook off the dirt on her.  

“Ah, ah, I heard it! Don’t try to deny it! I heard you singing.  Who is he?”

“There is no one-“

“I haven’t heard you sing since before-“

“As I said, there is no one in the picture.  I met a guy, yes.  But,” she said, putting up a hand to quiet her love-obsessed sister, “he is not someone I’m going to see again.  He is not important.  He came into and left my life within a half hour, all to stop my attempts to find an accompanist.”

“If it really is that hard, you don’t have to do it for us-“

“No, Dawn, I want to do it for you.  You both are cute together, even if it is too sweet for my liking.  I’m happy for you, and I want this day perfect for my younger sister.  I’ll just offer more money and look elsewhere.  I figured a coffeehouse would have a few musicians inside of it that were good.”

“Okay, alright, as long as you are sure.  I want you to have fun at the wedding and not work your butt off.  You’re already the maid of honor.  You shouldn’t feel bad about delegating.”

“I’m doing this for you, and that’s final.  Now, let’s go inside and get something to eat.”

The girls went inside, and Marianne hoped that Dawn had already forgotten about the guy she met as they made dinner for their girls’ night in.  Her hopes were soon dashed into tiny bits.

“So, what did this guy do exactly?”

After sighing in resignation, Marianne said, “He barged in when I had five more people to audition.  On and on he yelled at those guys, scaring them all within an inch of their lives.  If they weren’t so important to me, I would’ve laughed at how well and fast he made them run for being so new and terrible at guitar.”

“Sounds like a terrifying guy.”

“Well, being almost seven feet tall and broad shouldered with a name like Bog-“

“Wait, Bog, as in Bog of Eternal Stench?”

Marianne hugged her sister before continuing.

“Thank you for getting the movie reference.  Apparently those movie nights in college paid off.”

“So he didn’t get it?”

“Definitely not, and took it the wrong way.  But we didn’t talk much longer, so it worked out.  He had to rush to something, and I wasn’t about to stop him.  Really, the nerve of him.  He could have just waited a little longer, but no, too much Deep Purple had already been butchered.”

“Hypocrite.”

“I wish I could call him that.  However, he proved that he is more than capable with a guitar, and he’s actually quite good, at playing and singing.  I wish he had tried out.”

“I wonder why he didn’t.”

“He has a good job already, and he doesn’t do ‘silly, romantic stuff like weddings’,” she said, putting air quotes around his words. 

“Sounds like you two would get along,” said Dawn with a jab to the arm.

“No way.  Don’t you even start thinking about going there, little engaged one.  Just because you’re engaged and happy does not mean I want to be.  I’m happy by myself.”

“But you don’t sing anymore, and you used to love to sing!”

“You’ll hear me sing at your wedding.”

“But that’s still months away! Pw-eeze? I just want to see you happy, truly happy.”

“Dawn, I am happy.  I can’t be as happy as you, and you’re going to have to accept that.  As it is, I’m going to be taking on a lot more responsibility at work now that you’re jumping ship and creating your own business with Sunny.”

“We’re going to be the best interior decorators ever! I’m going to think of really cool ideas, and he’s going to make them all come to life.  He’s so good with his hands.  Wood or metal, he really is quite artistic.”

“I’ve seen and own some of his creations, too, dear.  His talent, combined with your ability to paint, will be a good combination.  I wish Dad would listen to reason.”

“I’m just glad he gave his blessing so we could marry.”

“Took him long enough,” muttered Marianne under her breath.

“So sissy, what shall it be tonight? Pasta?”

“Sounds good to me.  Then we can watch a movie while we eat.”

“Wanna watch Labyrinth? It’s been ages since we’ve seen it.”

“Dawn, I thought you’d never ask.”

On another side of town, Bog finally made it to his mother’s house and parked.  He would make it in time for dinner with ten minutes to spare.  Talking to Marianne had almost distracted him to the point of having to explain himself to his matchmaking mother, which he did _not_ want to do if he could help it.

The only problem with that idea was an Electric Light Orchestra song playing on the radio, and it mirrored his thoughts about a certain brunette whose smile and general feistiness made him think for a moment about dating again.  It had been a long time since someone had been willing to stand up to him like that, and he admired that in a woman.

Far better that than running away and never speaking to him again.

He realized that he was starting to say, “And I can’t get her out of my head,” so he started humming before he got to the door.  No point to excite his mother, who was already at the door with a smile and wooden spoon. 

“Is that my Bog? Early even? What’s happened?”

Generally, Bog was good at arriving at his mother’s home right on time.  It was less time that she could interrogate him about his non-existent love life.  He had forgotten about that in his rush to leave.  He was really regretting talking to Marianne now.

“Traffic was lighter than usual.  That’s all.”

“Are you sure? I see a little pink in your cheeks.  I think you’re ly-ing.  Is it a girl?”

The pink in his cheeks from fibbing to his mother (he really hated doing so) intensified at being called out, and turned something deeper when she mentioned a girl.  Why was he even surprised that that would be the first thought of hers?”

“Yes! I knew it! You finally met someone! Oh, I’m so happy for you!” she said, wrapping her son in a tight hug.  Bog did his best to breath.

“I can’t wait to meet her.  You simply _must_ bring her by sometime next week-“

“Mother, no.  It’s not like that.  Yes, it involves a girl, but not in the way you think.”

“Then what is it? Did you see that horrible witch again?”

“No, Mother, let me explain.”

And explain he did, as his mother put the finishing touches on the pasta before eating.  She sympathized with him and his ears, but she perked up upon hearing how much was being offered to play.

“Bog, dearest, I know you don’t like weddings, but that’s a lot of money.  It’d only be for a few hours at most.  Probably very easy for you.  Why don’t you consider doing it?”

“Mother, you’re only saying that because you want me to talk to that girl again.”

She spluttered indignantly before replying, “And so what if I am? She seems nice!”

“I don’t want nice.  Look at the last girl who had been nice at first.  No thanks, Mother.”

“Fine, but you should still go back to that coffee shop and grab a paper before she takes them all down.  You never know when you might change your mind.”

“There’s no point, Mother.  I’m never going to see her again, and that’s it.  With the amount of money she is paying, she’s probably a rich, spoiled brat who expects everyone to bend to her whims, especially when it comes to music.  You know how much I like being told what to do.”

Griselda laughed outright.

“Oh yes, I do.  Just about as much as your father, God rest his soul.  There’s a reason you own your own engineering consultant firm, my smart boy.”

“That’s right, Mother.  Well, thank you for the good meal.  It was good to see you again.”

“As it is every week.  I look forward to seeing you again then.  I hope to hear more good news on that front.”

“Don’t count on it.  Good night, Mother.”

As Bog drove home, he continued to think about Marianne and what his mother had said.  Perhaps grabbing a paper was a good idea regardless.  He would have to go there before going to Stuff’s place for Dungeons and Dragons.

As Bog walked into his apartment, Dawn and Marianne finished up their sister bonding night.  Those nights were limited, now that Dawn and Sunny were getting married and moving into their own custom home.  Dawn leaned against her sister, munching away at popcorn, while Marianne enjoyed listening to David Bowie sing.  It was not the same as another man she had heard singing earlier that day, but both were good in their way.  She tried to shake off such thoughts as quickly as possible, lest Dawn catch on.  Unfortunately for her, Dawn’s mind had already gone there and was only waiting the right moment.

“Marianne, did you ever have a crush on the Goblin King?”

The brunette took a moment to glare at her sister before responding.

“Of course I did.  Why do you think I showed you this movie? It’s certainly not for the acting.”

“Hee hee, no.  Definitely for David Bowie and his amazing singing.  Is he the best singer in your opinion?”

“I don’t know, Dawn.  He is good, but there are others with just as good voices, but in other ways.”

“Such as Bog?”

“Dawn!”

Marianne did not blush, but Dawn would bet good money that she was trying hard not to.  She had seen the way Marianne had looked off into the room earlier. 

“What? Come on, you really expect me to drop him? He’s the first guy you’ve talked about in a long time.”

“We argued,” said Marianne, as though it made total sense.

“There are worse ways to meet and end up together.”

“Such as, O Romantic One?”

“At a funeral.”

 “Way to kill the moment, Dawn.”

“You’re the one who asked.  But anyway, back to the topic at hand.  Was this Bog guy really almost seven feet tall?”

“He seemed like that.  He towers in the same way Jareth does over Sarah.”

“So Bog can be your own, personal Goblin King.”

“Dawn, I will _not_ allow that line of thinking to continue-“

“Why? Because you’ll never see him again? Then why not? He’ll never realize that he is part of one of our inside jokes.”

“I’ll feel awful.  He deserves more than that, especially since he’s never seen the movie.”

“If he had, he’d probably be flattered.  Better Jareth than one of the goblins.  I like the way that sounds,  Bog the Goblin King.  I wonder what his last name is.”

“We’re never going to find out.”

“Then I shall name him Bog King.  It is so decreed!”

“That’s my sister.”

“Well, you’re not being very helpful, so I am.  Sheesh.  I want to have hope for you.  Plus, it’s fun to tease you about someone again.”

“I love you, too, Dawn.”

“Anytime, Sister,” Dawn said, reaching over and hugging her older sister.

“Let’s go to bed.  We have a long day of making fairy wings tomorrow.”

“Sunny is brining over all the equipment in his truck.  It’s going to be such a fun day! I wish Mom were here to help us and squeal over our designs.”

“I’m sure she’d be proud of us, just like Dad is that we still go and continue on, as Mom would have liked.”

Both girls slept soundly that night, with Dawn’s dreams not centered around Sunny for once.  Her mind was more delightfully engaged with thoughts of Marianne with Bog and how cute they would be together.  Marianne had another dreamless night.

Dawn was up first for once in the morning, and she headed downstairs to make breakfast for all three, as she expected Sunny any second.  This time would be their main source of alone time that day since Marianne would be home all day to help with Renaissance festival costumes.

“Dawn?”

“I’m coming, Sunny!”

Dawn threw the door open and ran into Sunny’s open arms.  After a long kiss and embrace, they let go of one another so that they could get all of the supplies out of the car.  Once that was done, a kiss of accomplishment was needed, and then they finished making breakfast together.  When Marianne came down, dressed and ready to go, a full breakfast was waiting, all the pancakes and eggs she could ask for.

“Good morning, Marianne!” said both in unison before hugging her. 

“Good morning to you, too.  Smells amazing.  I can’t wait to eat it.”

“I can’t wait for you to see the paint I found.  It’s the perfect purple for you, Marianne.”

“Thanks, Sunny.  I’m excited to see it.  What did you find for Dawn?”

“Exactly what she asked for.  She’s much more specific, which is good and bad, considering the shade she wanted.”

“But he found it, so that’s all that matters.  Thank you, Sunny,” said Dawn, leaning in to kiss him.

“Not in front me, guys! How many times do I have to tell you?”

After breakfast, the three went to the garage and got to work.  All came out satisfied with their progress.  Sunny would be an elf this year to play to his short height, and each girl had a brightly colored pair of fairy wings to match up with the rest of their fairy outfits.

On another side of town, Bog was driving from his office to the coffee shop.  As luck would have it, the shop was in the process of taking down the signs, so he took all of them after only asking for one.  From there, he went to Stuff and Thang’s home, who were hosting Dungeons and Dragons that week.

When Bog had first started his consulting firm, he had been unsure about how many people he would need, so he had started small.  Once he had a regular stream of people, then he expanded.  Stuff and Thang, however, had graduated a year behind him (and had done projects with him) and had been excited to work for him, no matter how small the group was. 

While working together, Stuff and Thang ended up falling in love and started dating.  Once they realized that Bog was not going to yell at them for having an office romance, they invited him to their Dungeons and Dragons nights that they had fairly often.  Considering the commanding personality he had, they decided that he would be a good Dungeon Master, and they were correct. 

As Bog played more, everyone else agreed as their nights had become far more exciting, even if partly because they were still a little afraid of him.  As Dungeon Master, he was fond of goblins, so they often had their campaigns as goblins.  From that, he earned the nickname as Goblin King, since he favored the goblins so much.  He was their unofficial leader, with Stuff and Thang the two who were forced to tell all news to him since he was their friend.

Bog ended up arriving a couple minutes late for the gathering because of traffic from the coffee shop.  He stuffed one paper in his pocket before heading inside to see who else had not arrived.  For once, he was the last one, so he took all the good-natured poking at him for being last after being such a time stickler. 

“Where you been, O Great King?”

“I got stuck in traffic.”

“Sure, like we haven’t heard that one before.  Denied! Try again.”

Bog sighed as he settled into his seat.  What should he tell them? Unfortunately for him, the paper in his pocket crinkled as he sat down before falling out of his pocket.  One guy picked it up and read it aloud for all to hear.

“What’s this? You giving up your day job to work weddings now? The great hater of love at a wedding?”

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“What is it?”

“I met a girl at a coffee shop-“

“Your mother will be so happy.”

Bog gave the speaker a face of “Really?” before going on.

“I already crushed her dreams.  No.  This girl and I, we met and argued about her inability to find good performers.  She needs an accompanist, and she offered so much money that every bozo with a guitar came and killed all my love for ‘Smoke on the Water’.  It was bad.” 

“Why keep the sheet?”

“Look at the price and tell me that’s not ridiculous.  Just looking at the sheet makes me laugh.”

Once all laughed at it, the subject was dropped temporarily in favor of starting the game.  During their break, though, someone else brought it up again.

“So what was this girl like?”

“She’s a fireball, a really feisty one.  She was willing to yell at me.”

“I want to meet this girl.  I don’t think she exists.”

“Call that number, and you will.  But leave me out of it.  I don’t think she likes me.”

“Don’t worry, we still do.”

“Thank you, Peanut Gallery.  Anyway, what of the plans to go to the Renaissance festival?” Bog said, trying to redirect the conversation.

Bog had been to a couple festivals now, all with the rest of the group.  Thang and Stuff loved the festivals, so they dared everyone else to come one year.  All had fun, so they ended up going back, usually splitting up for the various interests.  Bog preferred to go on alone.  This year, it had been a little harder to plan, but the consensus seemed to be for the following weekend.  He liked the idea a lot since the theme would be the Scottish Highland Games.

“We can all go this year.  How does next Saturday sound?”

“Let’s go.  We’ll meet here and drive together to save on parking.”

“Righto, Kingy.”

The rest of the game continued on after that without any more mention of Marianne, which was how Bog preferred it.  He was good at getting his way in this respect, and all seemed to think that she was no big deal, even if he still thought about her more than he should.  It would not matter, and so he kept that mantra up.

The next week flew by.  Bog had a new client that he had to design for, so he put in long hours there.  His costume was already done, a goblin outfit that matched all the others’ outfits, with his having more regal colors and a crown to show that he was in charge.  By Friday, he had done a good job of limiting his thoughts of Marianne to once or twice a day, or so he told himself.

If it would have been any consolation to him, Marianne had a similar issue with thoughts of Bog coming back.  Granted, her thoughts were more frequent as she wondered if he could be bribed into helping her, mixed in with thoughts that stemmed from Dawn’s teasing about “her Goblin King”.

On Friday night, Marianne went out with Sunny and Dawn to a bar to celebrate Marianne’s success in finishing another project for her dad’s architecture firm, as Sunny wanted to hang out with the girls as well.  Dawn got on stage for a rousing rendition of “Sugar Pie Honey Bunch” (directed at a smiling Sunny) before sitting down and drinking more. 

Dawn was a lightweight, just like Marianne, but Dawn was not concerned as she had two people with her that she trusted.  Soon, Dawn was saying outrageous things and hugging Sunny incessantly.  She had hugged a lot before they dated, but once they became official, she limited all her hugging to him, much to Sunny’s delight.  Tonight, Marianne was on her mind, as was Bog.

“Marianne, I wish you had gotten his number.  I bet he’d enjoy this.”

“I doubt it, Dawn.  He seems quieter.”

“Despite meeting for such a brief time, you sure seem to know a whole lot about him.  I wonder why?”

“Things he said struck a chord with me.  That’s all.”

“I think you like him.”

“Dawn, if I have to tell you one more time-“

“He’s your own personal Goblin King.  And he sings too! Your own Boggy Woggy.”

“Don’t call him that.”

“Why not? Why do you care?”

“Because if I had a name like that, I’d never want to be called that.  Common courtesy.”

“Because you like him!”

“Sunny, I think it’s time to go home.”

“I’m right behind you, Marianne.”

“But, Sunny, I don’t want to go home yet.  We haven’t discussed which cakes we liked best from this morning’s tastings.  I really liked the second one.”

“I liked that one, too, but it was too sugary.  I thought the third one was the best balance.”

“Hmm, I think I need to try that one again.  Wait, when did we get to the car?”

“We need to go home, Dawn.  We have a drive ahead of us before the festival.”

“I’m so excited! Can we go to jousting together, just the two of us? It’ll be so romantic, just like last year.”

“Maybe not with every detail the same-“

“Oh, of course not, Sunny.  They might have expectations, but they’ll see us tomorrow.  And I’ll be proud to be there with you, my best friend.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Dawn.”

Night passed quickly, and soon it was time to get up and go to the local Renaissance festival.  All piled into their respective cars and arrived in time for the opening ceremonies.  Marianne’s group got there before Bog’s group because Marianne forced Dawn to get up earlier than usual, but it was worth it.  Bog and his crew got there soon after, and they greeted the staff and volunteers like old friends.

Bog enjoyed the volunteers this year who played Queen Elizabeth and her court.  They were more lively than last year’s.  Once they were all let into the festival officially, the group posed for a few pictures before splitting up as always.  Bog went off to a shady corner (as the day was already feeling hot, even for September) to look at the map and determine his schedule of events for the day.

Once he got close to a tree, he saw a bright purple in the corner of his eye, and he investigated it.  As he got closer, he saw that the purple was in fact wings.  Fairy wings by his estimation.  They were not store-bought, like so many others, but were delicately wrapped and crafted.  A feat like that was uncommon and deserved a second look.  Then, he heard a female grunt of frustration. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you unstuck.  Sunny is looking for someone taller as we speak.”

Taller? Bog was puzzled until he spotted where the right wing was attached to a tree branch.

 It was easy for him to grab the branch and wing, so he said, “Here, I got it.  I promise to be gentle on the wings.”

It took him only a moment, and once he unhooked the wing, the owner turned around, as though to thank him.  And then they recognized one another.

“You!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't own Strange Magic. All rights go to their respective owners. I also don't own any songs mentioned, or Labyrinth. I love Labyrinth, and I think there are some interesting similarities between the movies that need to be explored later. Here's more backstory and Dawn and Sunny interactions, as promised. Next chapter will have the rest of the explanations, as well as much more. Renaissance festivals are fun, and I have all kinds of things planned. Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 3: A Renaissance Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bog and Marianne spend a day together at a Renaissance Festival. There's sparring, more sparring, Roland bashing (literally), a meddling Dawn, kilts, and just lots of Butterfly Bog goodness.

Chapter 3: A Renaissance Festival

“You!”

“What are you doing here?”

“Why do you think I’m here, Marianne? I’m here to enjoy the festival.  Aren’t you?”

“Well, I was-“

Bog scowled and deflated a little before answering.

“I’m glad I killed this day for you, too-“

“No, not that again!” said Marianne, stomping her foot in annoyance.  “I was referring to my wings getting stuck.  I spent hours trying to make these, and then to have them be ruined by a stray tree branch, right at the beginning of the day, is annoying.”

Bog could hear the sigh escape Marianne, which made him pause in his ready tirade for her.  She really was upset about the wings.  Perhaps he could mend after last time.  He started out talking by looking at the ground.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, they still look great.  It’s a small hole that most won’t notice, and if they do, they’ll probably think it was done like that on purpose.”

“So just own it, and no one will care?”

“That’s what I do.  No one tells me differently,” he said with confidence.

“I like it,” she said, smiling at him.

The two stood there awkwardly for several moments, both smiling at the other before Dawn came rushing back.

“Marianne, good news! I found a super tall and nice guy to come over and help! He’s coming with Sunny now,” she said before stopping and realizing that her sister was actually smiling.  Then she saw that Marianne was not stuck in the tree anymore.  And then she saw a _very_ tall guy smiling back.  The gears in Dawn’s head moved so fast at speeds never seen before, and she was smiling as well.

“Bog King! It’s great to meet you at last!”

Dawn rushed in, ready to hug Bog, when Bog suddenly turned upon hearing his full name and scowled menacingly at Dawn, who stopped short immediately.

“How did you know my name? Who are you?”

“Me? I’m Dawn, Marianne’s sister.  You know her, right? I’m the one getting married.  It’s nice to meet you.”

Dawn tried again to go up and hug Bog, but he prevented her, still confused but hiding it well.

“How did you know my name? Marianne only knows my first name.”

“Uhhh, well, you see-“

“Did you look me up?”

“No.”

Dawn looked like she wanted to shrink to Sunny’s size and run away, and Marianne enjoyed it.  It was not often that someone made her outgoing sister pause like that, and considered Bog lucky.  While she was surprised at finding out that it was his real name and how she was going to be teased about it later, she was curious to see how Dawn got herself out of these things, as she always did.

“Then how did you know my name?”

“I didn’t! I just saw the crown on your head, and went with that.  You’re tall enough to pass for one.”

That pacified Bog some, so his scowl disappeared.  No smile yet, but it was enough for Dawn to go to him and hug him, shocking him with the contact.

“Anyway, now that we have figured that out, thanks so much for helping with my sister’s wings! I was so worried that I’d have to climb on Sunny’s back to untangle it.  Speaking of Sunny, where is he?”

Sunny appeared moments later, huffing and looking scared.  After he took a moment to breathe, he tried to explain himself.

“Dawn, the guy got called away, so-“

“Aw, it’s okay, Sunny! It’s all taken care of, see? This nice guy named Bog took care of her for us.”

“Wait, Bog, as in-“

“Yes, that Bog,” said Bog stepping up to both with his arms folded.  “I see Marianne told you both about our meeting in the coffee shop.”

“Meeting? More like loud confrontation,” said Marianne with a smile.

“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, Marianne.”

“Well, you’re getting it anyway, Bog.  I owe you for all the opinions you shared with me last time.”

Bog turned away from the engaged couple and faced Marianne, who was smiling and giving him a challenging look.  Both puffed themselves out, ready for another rehash of last time.

“They were desecrating all that was good about ‘Smoke on the Water’, which wasn’t much to begin with! I was doing you a favor.”

“I still don’t have anyone.”

Bog just shrugged at Marianne, which only frustrated her more.

“Not my problem.  You aren’t looking in the right places.”

“Are you suggesting that I go up to all the musicians here and ask them?”

“It would be a start, yes.”

“Sure, let’s ask all these people specializing in Renaissance festival type music if they can play the guitar and do some rock and roll.  Great idea,” she said, sarcasm laden in each word.

“I’m just full of them.  I am a King, as you now know.  You should listen to me, Princess.”

“Princess?”

“You don’t look like you’re used to going out and doing so much work, if you can’t even hire a musician.”

Marianne looked like she wanted to punch the guy, so Dawn stepped in before Marianne got herself kicked out of another public place for fighting.

“Hey look, guys, it’s almost time for the jousting! Who wants to go?”

Marianne made a face of disgust before Bog chimed in.

“No thanks.  The horses deserve better riders than the pretty boys who spout romantic drivel like that.”

“Thank you,” said Marianne.

“I’m off to see the Washing Well Wenches, as it is.  If you’ll excuse me, I’m sure you have other things you wanted to do today-“

“Now hang on a second, Bog! You say you’re going to see the Wenches, too?”

Bog turned back around and gave Dawn a questioning glance.

“Yes, too?”

“Well, I know Marianne also hates the jousting, though I think it has more to do with what happened last year, and she _loves_ the Wenches as well.”

Bog raised his eyebrows at Marianne, who shrugged her shoulders.  She made it clear that she did _not_ want to talk to him.  Bog acted accordingly.

“Even if she does, I’m sure she’s going to a later show and doesn’t want my gloomy company.  I’ll just be making fun of everyone there, anyway.”

“But Marianne does that, too! See? You have to take her with you, so that she isn’t making gagging noises when Sunny agrees to volunteer.”

Both Bog and Marianne chuckled at the thought of little Sunny volunteering, but more so Marianne, knowing that he would not enjoy being poked, prodded, and forced to almost kiss the Wenches in order to get the rose that the Wenches gave to male volunteers. 

“Whether or not Marianne does it is irrelevant.  She doesn’t wish to speak to me, and I’m not going to force myself, either.”

“Marianne.  You know he’s going to be here.”

Bog stopped at the mention of a “he”.

“So what? I’ll just punch him and enjoy myself.”

“Marianne, I don’t want to have to bail you out of jail like last year.”

“But it was _so_ worth it!”

“Marianne, I’d feel so much better if you had another guy around, just to scare him off.  Please? For my sake?”

“Dawn, I can take care of myself.”

“Bog, help her see reason.  She just needs an escort-“

“I can take care of myself, Dawn.”

“Yes, I know you can, but you need to let others do so, sometimes.  Just for most of the day, alright? Once you scare him off, then Bog can stop being a gentleman and leave.”

“Who said I was a gentleman? How do you know I’m not evil for all the things I’ve already done?”

“Nah, anyone who enjoys Deep Purple that much and would help with Marianne’s wings is okay in my book,” said Dawn, waving off his objections.

“Regardless, if Marianne-” Bog said before stopping as he saw Marianne’s face. 

 

Marianne’s shoulders slumped before crossing her arms and looking at him, tilting her head away from the group.  He took that cue as Marianne’s resigned willingness, and if it meant getting the nosy Dawn out of his face, he would do it.

“Oh good, so you agree! I knew you’d come around.  You two have fun now, while Sunny and I go watch some jousting.  Have fun and try not to get into any fights!”

Dawn flitted away with Sunny, hand in hand.  Both smiled and took off, leaving the other two alone again.

“Do you actually like the Wenches, Marianne?”

“Yes, I do.  I love making fun of all the dudes stupid enough to allow themselves to be manhandled, all for their girlfriend’s sake.  It’s my favorite part of the day.  I try to do it first, while it is still cool since there isn’t much shade there.”

“My thoughts exactly.  The show starts in thirty minutes.  If we’re going to get good seats, we need to hurry.”

Bog started walking with purpose while Marianne stood still for a moment, confused.  Finally, she ran to catch up with Bog’s much longer stride.

“Are you actually agreeing to do this? Or did you agree just to get rid of Dawn like I was?”

Bog smiled at Marianne before he used his long staff to push people out of their way.

“The latter, of course.  She is persistent.”

“Try living with her.”

“Better you than me.  But it would be funny to see her fiancé go up and volunteer.”

“He won’t.  He knows what awaits him.”

The two continued to talk about other parts of the Wenches’ show that they liked until they finally arrived.  They got a seat in the middle of the action, sitting next to each other, but with enough space to suggest that they were not together.  The space did not last long once all the seats started to fill, and Marianne took off her wings so that she would not hit anyone, while Bog tried to rearrange his body so that the harder part of his armor was not against Marianne.     

Soon, the show started.  The Wenches introduced themselves before they started their jokes and got orders for beer.  They did their best to sit in all the men’s laps who ordered, so Bog had more reason not to drink.  Marianne pointed out which guys looked stricken at the thought of the Wenches trying to press their bosoms in their face. 

The two continued to whisper to one another throughout the show.  Not even the short interlude of the guy with the whip was safe from their comments.  Marianne made faces as the Wenches brought back the beer and took sips of it, especially of Guinness, before giving it to the people who ordered.  Once the challenges started, the two could not stop laughing.  Some men were forced the wear the women’s dirty laundry, or else run to a random place and declare loudly his undying love for his girl, while others were put on public display for their muscles, talents, or whatever else the women decided. 

“Why any guy would willingly put up with that for a flower is beyond me,” said Marianne.

“You don’t like the idea of men suffering trials and laughing at them for it?”

“While I may enjoy laughing at them, do you really think I’d want any man of mine to be touched by those women like that? Certainly not.”

Bog snorted before nodding his head.

“That’s true.  I’m sure your boyfriend is grateful to you for that.”

“Who said I had a boyfriend?”

Marianne’s face went from wide-eyed to scrunched-up in moments. 

“I assumed.”

“You shouldn’t assume.  I might have once, but not anymore.  I don’t do love, any more than you.”

“Your sister is a special case.”

“More than you know.  I’ll explain once this ends.”

Soon, all the men were reunited with their significant others, who now held flowers.  The Wenches continued to fling water from the laundry at the guests in the front couple rows as they tried to make the crowd scream more so they could be considered the loudest group there. 

Finally, the Wenches said their goodbyes, looking for tips of all sorts.  Bog and Marianne gave their tip before Marianne led Bog over to a bench to sit and explain Dawn.

“There’s a reason why I didn’t want to go to jousting with Dawn and Sunny.  It’s their special time together.”

“Why?”

“Because my sister and I have been attending Renaissance festivals since being in strollers with my Mom and Dad.  Once my Mom died, the one who really loved these things, my Dad stopped going, but Dawn and I still went.  Sunny has been her best friend since age seven, so he was there for her throughout.  It was hard to even get them together in the first place after being best friends for so long.”

“How did they end up doing that?”

“Oh, Dawn went through a boy-crazy stage, so Sunny was her source of advice and go-to friend of all times.  She has a habit of going to the bar and singing ‘Sugar Pie Honey Bunch’ when drunk to whatever guy she happens to go with, except Sunny.  One time, she sang the part about ‘You know that I love you’ right at Sunny, and for once, Sunny couldn’t help himself and actually smiled and looked with adoration at her, like he does whenever she is not looking.  Dawn saw it, and she had a _long_ conversation with him after, that ending with them kissing and dating at long last.”

“So she doesn’t sing that song anymore?”

“Oh no, now she does it all the time, for Sunny.  He loves it for whatever reason.  He’s just as good, so don’t think he lets her do all the singing.”

“So what does jousting have to do with them?”

“Since Dawn and I love this place so much, Sunny thought it appropriate to propose here.  Her favorite part of the festival is jousting, so he talked to all of the festival people and pleaded his case.  After much talking and some money exchanging hands, he was ‘picked’ to be a volunteer jouster since one guy fell off his horse ‘at the last second’,” she said putting up air quotes.

Bog shook his head before Marianne continued.

“He said he would do it for Dawn, and he ended up winning, of course.  Then he came back victorious, knelt down, and proposed.  Dawn was speechless.  I’ve never seen her so happy.”

“So you knew this was going to happen the whole time?”

“Of course! I was taping it on my camera so that they can show it to their kids one day.  Sunny pleaded with me to do it, though I would have done it regardless for my sister.  There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for her.”

“She’s lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have her, more like.  She had to put up with me during a time when I hated all people, especially men.  But she bore it well and tried to get me to come out and do stuff with her and Sunny.”

“What happened?”

“I’d rather not talk about it, but suffice it to say that it involves a guy that I’d rather forget about, even if he won’t leave me alone, not that my Dad is helping much.  He’s the reason Dawn wants you here.  But I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“You don’t need a big, scary guy beside you, Tough Girl?”

“No.  You probably don’t even know how to fight.”

“Don’t assume, Tough Girl.  You probably know how to kick where it hurts, and that’s it.”

Marianne stood up and put her fists in the air.

“Want to bet?”

“I’d love to.  But first, let’s do it somewhere appropriate.”

“Where? No one encourages fighting here.”

“On the contrary, I know people here.  I have one friend involved in the Scottish Highland games right now, as well.  He happens to have weapons lying about for such a thing.”

Marianne scoffed at such an idea, but soon Bog was off, scaring anyone who got in his way.  Marianne soon had to run to catch up with him, yet again.  This running around was getting old in her mind.

“Would you slow down a bit?”

“Having trouble keeping up, Tough Girl?”

“Not at all.”

“Sure seemed like it.”

“You’re scaring a lot of people unnecessarily.”

Bog laughed at such a thought before continuing on toward where the games were happening.  Lots of people participated where allowed, but certain things they did not, such as with the swords.  His friend taught fencing professionally and had taught Bog for years now, and he was in charge of the weapons at this event.

“So you do know how to use a broadsword, right?”

Marianne glared at Bog before walking past him and elbowing him.

“Yes, I know.  I’ve been fencing for years.  You’re going to need a lot of ice when I get through with you.”

“Doubtful.  I’ve been doing it for just as long.  Excuse me for a second.”

Marianne watched as Bog talked amicably to the guy blocking access to the sharp weapons.  She had not been to practice in a while, but she knew a little warm-up would take care of that problem.  Soon, the guy was slapping Bog on the back and beckoning Marianne forward. 

“Pick your weapon, Marianne.”

“Aren’t you as well, Bog?”

“I already have mine,” he said, smug smile in place.

“That walking stick?”

Bog waved off Marianne’s comment.

“This _stick_ is actually a staff, carefully cut and balanced for optimum effect.  Watch and see.”

“Ha.  I’ll still beat you easily.”

“Want to bet, Tough Girl?”

Bog was smiling, and Marianne saw her chance to use his cockiness.

“Oh yes.  If you lose, then you have to be my accompanist at my sister’s wedding.”

“And if you lose, then you have to tell me about this guy that you don’t want to see ever again.”

“Deal.  Hit me with your best shot,” she said, her hands motioning to him to bring it on.

“Are you going to sing that while fighting, Tough Girl?”

“No.  If I’m going to sing anything right now, it’s going to be ‘Straight On’ as I beat you.  What about you?”

“I avoid the singing as much as I can, especially with other people around.”

“But you have a good voice.  If you’re so evil, you could do ‘TNT’.”

“I don’t sing.  Stop stalling, Marianne.  I’m coming for you.”

“Not before I come straight on for you.”   

The two shook hands and then took five minutes to warm up.  After warming up, the fighting began.  The agreement had been to keep to good fencing techniques, but that got out of hand quickly since both were enjoying the exercise.  Marianne took the offensive right away, swinging her sword at him as he blocked with his staff. 

A group gathered to watch the advanced fencers as they started in one corner of the field and eventually weaved around the entirety of the playing field, striking at one another every chance they got. 

Stuff and Thang saw the crowd starting to form and saw their boss fighting with a girl.  It was not often that he did that, so both watched eagerly.  Stuff took out her phone to record it.  Thang wanted to help, but Stuff stopped him from going out there and risk getting himself hurt.

Meanwhile, the battlefield had never been so perilous, with random implements like javelins lying around, as they had all been abandoned the moment people saw them going at it.

Marianne thrust at Bog.  Bog blocked.  A riposte followed, but was parried easily by Marianne. 

“Is that all you got, Tough Girl?”

“For you, never.  I’m just warming up.”

The broadsword clanged as it hit the long staff, from under, then over, then in a circle as Bog directed the sword away to throw Marianne off-balance.  Marianne flipped into the air, sword at the ready.

“Come on, Bog King! Can’t you do any better than that?”

“Watch your mouth, Tough Girl.”

Stones appeared in their way.  Marianne jumped on the rocks for more of a height advantage.  Bog aimed for her legs.  She jumped and tried to hit from above.  Bog just moved his staff up with such force to throw her off the rocks. 

Marianne dropped the sword to recover.   Bog was behind her in a moment.  Two kicks to the knees had Bog backing up, giving Marianne time to grab her sword back. 

“Almost got you that time, Marianne.  Watch yourself.”

“I’m not even breaking a sweat here.  I was expecting a real challenge from you.”

Next came the poles.  Marianne thrust again, only for Bog to push her back, as he was annoyed by her comments.  He went to the other side of a pole, swinging his staff at her.  Marianne fell back.  She tried to go behind him, but he turned in a moment, the sword clinking as it hit the pole instead.  She almost had him! Bog was impressed.  The two danced about the pole, trying to hit one another. 

As the two drew near to the instructor, he began waving his arms about, asking them to limit the fight to another five minutes before he called a draw.  Both acknowledged him with words but never took their eyes off of their opponents.

“Where’s all that menace, Bog King? You’re all bark and no bite.”

“I didn’t want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice.  Here I come, coming straight on for you!”

Bog made one last attempt to feint a move right before trying to use his height to advantage and come down on Marianne.  She ducked and glided out from under him.  Once free, she lunged at him near his hand, trying to knock the staff out of his hand, but to no avail.  The two fought, almost danced, in a circle, each thrusting and blocking, trying so desperately to get the winning hit.

Before they knew it, the instructor blew a whistle and asked them both to stand down and accept a draw. 

“Looks like neither of us won, Bog.”

“Yes.  You know what that means.”

“I do.  Now you’re helping me with this music since you’re so talented.”

“And you owe me a story, Marianne.”

Both bowed and shook hands again before being mobbed by people asking them if they gave lessons or toured with their show.  Stuff and Thang saved them by pushing through.

“Don’t worry, King, we got it all on video.”

“What? Why did you do that?”

“Because you looked pretty awesome out there.  Why else? Wait ‘til everyone else sees this!”

Stuff grabbed Thang and pulled him away in case Bog was not happy about being on video.  She did not care, as it had been a good fight to watch.

The dueling couple soon escaped the crowd and headed for shade and water.  They almost got pickles from one of the many sellers, but waited for water.  Bog managed to scare a few people out of line so that they could get water faster.  They ended up getting turkey legs as well since they had worked up an appetite. 

Once they had refreshment and shade, they calmed down more as they discussed what else they had planned to do.  They found out that they both wanted to go to the human chess tournament being held soon, as well as one other show later.  Marianne decided to stick around Bog, as he was actually good company for her, not just talking about himself or wasting time on mindless small talk and flattery like other people she had known.

“Are you going to tell me about this guy at some point?”

“Yes, eventually.  Oh! There’s a kilt stand right there.  Are you planning to go there?”

“Me?” he asked, his voice going up a couple octaves.  “Why would I go in there?”

Bog did his best to avoid eye contact with Marianne, much to her amusement.

“Well, you are Scottish.  Do you own a kilt?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that I own a kilt.  As my father was a proud Scotsman, he owned a few-“

“Hey!” screamed Marianne to the guy that happened to walk out of a tent just then, “do you know this guy?”

“Of course! We’ve had many a conversation.  A very good customer.”

“Pare!”

“Well, you are!”

“Thank you, kind sir.”

“Anytime, M’lady,” he said, before going back in the tent.

“You were saying, O Kilt-Owner?”

“I bought them for my father.”

“Sure, Bog.  It’s alright.  I promise I won’t laugh too much if you tell the truth.  I bet you wear them often.”

Bog’s ears turned pink.  He was tired of this subject.

“Marianne, stop trying to change the subject.  Now, back to my original question.  What about this guy? Is he an ex of some sort?”

Marianne’s shoulders dropped before she glared at him for finding her out.

“Of some sort, yes.  I was engaged to him, in fact.  His name is Roland, and he’s a lying, cheating scumbag that needs to be punched many times.” 

“Sounds like I would hate him, too.”

“Be glad you never met that two-faced, flattering womanizer-“

Bog waited for her to continue until he saw where her eyes were focused.  Ahead, a blond guy in shiny armor strutted about, his helmet in hand as he looked for someone.  The moment his eyes connected with Marianne’s he smiled and headed toward her.  The petite brunette gave him a glance so cold that it could freeze water, or his heart if he had one.  Bog put a hand on Marianne’s arm.

“Is this the guy?”

“That’s him.  Excuse me while I beat up this stalker.”

Marianne marched up to Roland as he greeted her with every pet name he could think of.  Bog did not like this guy one bit and stood behind Marianne, just in case.

“Roland, why are you here?”

“C’mon Marianne, you can’t be surprised to see me.  We go to this every year together.”

“Not since you cheated on me right before the wedding.”

“Now see here, I’ve come to talk to you about that-“

Before he could say anymore, Marianne sent a left hook at his eye, making sure he had a nice shiner on his pretty little face, followed by a punch under the chin to send him to the ground.  She hoped he was unconscious.

“I feel so much better now.  If only I could just put him in jail, I’d be all set.”

Bog smiled at Marianne before saying, “Actually, I think I can help with that.  Watch him for a second.  I’ll be right back.”

Five minutes later, Bog came back with three guys holding rope. 

“What’s all this for, Bog?”

“We’re going to put him in jail.  For the rest of today, to make sure that he doesn’t bother you.”

“You don’t have to.”

Marianne put up a hand to stop the men, but Bog took hers in his bigger one, bringing it down and squeezing.  His eyes pleaded with hers.

“Yes, I do.  Please let me, Marianne.  It’d give me great pleasure to do this to the guy that cheated on you.  You deserve so much better than that.”

After that, Bog and the other three guys tied up Roland and carried him off to the local “jail”, a wooden set of bars in a rectangular shape, where they hung up signs declaring his crimes to the world, including, but not limited to, arguing, disturbing the peace, being a pervert, magic box abuse, lying, and cheating.  The final one added by Bog was “Just Because”. 

Bog and Marianne high-fived one another in triumph and waited for Roland to wake up, who was shocked to be inside.  Once he saw Marianne, she pointed and laughed, then took Bog’s outstretched arm to leave.

Thankfully, the jail was close to where the chess match was happening, and both were allowed to join in the game, but on different sides.  Bog took to whispering in the ear of one of the volunteers.  The volunteer whispered back, making Bog scowl for a moment, but he agreed, so the volunteer quickly switched his place with someone else. 

Marianne realized then that he really did seem to know everyone there.  In this case, it had been beneficial so far, as she would never have gotten to fight like that normally.  Or have this opportunity.

Queen Elizabeth gave her speech to encourage her subjects to beat the other team, including Bog.  Bog just smirked at her.  The game began, and after a few moves, the two got the chance to fight one another again.  They had blunt rapiers and fought until Bog pretended to be hit by her and bowed out.  Marianne was confused until she realized that that was probably why Bog had scowled earlier, knowing that he would have to lose to her.  She just smiled at him, waving her clasped hands in the air.

The chess game ended with Queen Elizabeth’s side winning, and when that was done, the two decided to look at merchants until the later show.  They went over to a new portion of the festival, called the Dark Forest.  Bog was intrigued, and Marianne liked the idea of shade. 

Once in the Dark Forest, they watched little shows until coming upon a gypsy fortune teller.  The sign above declared her to be Sugar Plum.  She smiled at the couple and asked them to come closer.

“Sorry, gypsy, but I don’t believe in all that nonsense,” said Bog.

“Nor do I,” added Marianne.

“Neither of you believe in magic?”

“Magic, and love for that matter,” replied Marianne.

Sugar Plum tsked before waving her hands over her crystal ball, which soon clouded up.

“You will believe in both.  I predict great things for the two of you.  Together.”

“We’re not together,” said Bog.

“But you will be, mark my words,” said the gypsy.  “I see music in your future.  Together, you two can do anything.  Have a nice day,” she said, motioning to the path beyond her.

With that, Sugar Plum picked up her crystal and petted her pet monkey, if that was what the white creature was.  Neither was sure but did not ask, preferring to leave the odd woman.

“Well, that was weird,” said Marianne.

“You can say that again.  I wonder what else is this way?”

“Let’s find out.  First one to the end wins!”

Marianne had already been ahead of him, but Bog did not mind.  She was much shorter than him, and he could afford to give her a head start.  He soon caught up, and then he slowed down and ran backwards to taunt her.  She pushed on to try to pass him.

As it turned out, there was a lot more of the path than either realized.  Neither was a runner, after what seemed like the first mile, the two were wearing out fast.  It was then that Bog spotted a river. 

“We’re almost there! I see the river!”

“But can we make it?”

“I know I can.  And I know how you will, too.”

Female shrieks were heard as a fairy was tossed onto the shoulder of a tall goblin, sprinting the last bit of the journey,  despite her kicking at him, before he dropped her off right before the end and ran ahead to win.  Marianne crossed onto the dock where Bog was standing, looking at the water.

“Are we still in the festival, Bog?”

“I’m not quite sure.  Haven’t seen anyone for a while.  But the gypsy just pointed us in this direction, so I assumed so.”

“Maybe we should go back.”

“Wait a few minutes, Tough Girl.  Let’s rest here and enjoy the peace and quiet a little more.”

They sat down on opposite sides of the dock, both removing their shoes to put their feet in the water.  They drank in the quiet, the only sound being the water as it gurgled past them.  Eventually, Marianne lay back on the dock to look at the sky.  Soon, Bog was doing the same, their heads at the same level.

“This is nice.  I could stay here a long time.”

“I wish we could, Marianne, but we’re going to have to leave soon if we still want to get something to eat before seeing the last show.”

“Is it close already?”

“We’ll need an hour probably to get there, and that’s soon.”

“Five more minutes,” she said, turning her head toward him to hide in the shade of Bog.

“Works for me,” he said, scooting closer to her to give her more shade.

After a time, Bog stood up and helped Marianne up as well.  As he bent down to pick up her wings, Marianne got an idea.  She bent down to the water, and splashed him.  He did not respond well.

“I hope that was just the current acting up, and not you, little one.  You’ll lose this splash war.”

“Not if I can help it,” she said, splashing him more. 

Bog dropped the wings to get water of his own on her side, soon sending small waves her way with his large hands.  Marianne knew a losing battle when she saw one, so she shoved him a little and ran off.  Bog laughed before running after her.

Once he caught up, she started walking, and they walked in silence the rest of the way, smiles glued to their faces.  Bog tried to think of some way to get back at her, while Marianne enjoyed the scenery.

The walk back was much shorter than the one into it, to their surprise.  Soon, they were seeing booths, but no Sugar Plum.  Her wagon was nowhere to be seen.  A sign also appeared on the path, but they paid no heed to it since it was for the other way. 

On the rest of the path, they got to enjoy looking at the various wares, from pixie dust and chainmail clothing to fine leather and fairy wings.  Both preferred the weapon dealers, and Bog introduced Marianne to the different sellers.

Finally, the two grabbed more food and went to the last show of the evening.  The comedian was funny, and both laughed, even making Marianne cry at one point because Bog should not be allowed to talk about all the imbeciles in the world and what he would do to them, and how this comedian was not helping.

When the show was done, they headed out into the main square, only to be flagged down by a screaming Dawn.

“There you two are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Haven’t we, Sunny?”

“Yes, we have.  Where did you go?”

“We’ve been all over the place,” answered Bog.

“And making scenes too!”

“What?” screeched Dawn.  “Now what did you do?”

“Don’t worry, it was allowed, this time.”

“Marianne, what did you do?”

“Well, first, Bog and I fought with sword and staff in front of a crowd and got it recorded, and then I punched Roland in the face and really enjoyed it.  Bog was nice enough to lock him up in jail for the rest of the day.  Then, we played in Queen’s Chess, and I beat Bog.”

“Hmph.  Only because I was forced.”

“Sure, Bog.”

“Aww, it’s okay, Boggy Woggy.  I believe you.”

“I’m not Boggy Woggy or Boggy.  It’s Bog.”

“Bog, Boggy, whatever.”

“You should be nicer to him, Dawn.”

“Why?”

“Because he agreed to be my accompanist for the wedding.”

Dawn’s face lit up.  Bog did not like where this was going.  He was right, as Dawn was soon hugging the life out of him.

“Oh, thank you so much Boggy! I really appreciate it, and so does Marianne, even if she won’t say out loud! Thanks! I’m glad you can join us! It’s going to be so much fun! I can hardly wait! So, did you exchange numbers yet?”

“Dawn! We’re not dating.”

The fact that Marianne’s mind went there first was not lost upon Dawn.  She smiled.

“So? You still need to contact one another to figure out where to practice.”

“I guess so,” said Marianne.

“Give me your phone, and I’ll give you mine,” said Bog.

The two exchanged numbers, and that was when the rest of Bog’s group found him.

“There’s our King, the great staff-wielder himself.”

“And don’t forget kilt-owner extraordinaire,” added Marianne sweetly.

Bog gave her a dirty look before wishing her and the engaged couple good night.  His friends soon were on him.

“So who’s that, King?”

“That’s the girl he was fighting earlier.  It was a tie.”

“She’s pretty, and good for you.  You two should date.”

“Have I ever told you, Thang, that I’ll ask for your opinion when I want it?”

Thang mumbled to Stuff about her saying it instead, while Stuff just smiled and patted her boyfriend’s hand.  After that, they all left.  It was right before they all got in their cars that Stuff spoke up.

“So how did you meet her, Bog?”

“She’s the one I met in the coffee shop.  Today was purely by accident.”

“But you both felt that you needed to take out your growing frustration with one another by sparring together.  Good idea.  Did it help?”

“Good night, Stuff.”

In another part of the parking lot, the sisters and Sunny got into their car to go home.

“So, did you spend all day with him?”

“As it so happens, yes.  I hadn’t intended to, but it turned out to be a lot of fun.  I never thought I’d get to spar here.”

“That’s okay; I thought I’d never get proposed to by a gallant knight, either,” she said, smiling at Sunny. 

Sunny blushed before starting the car.

“So, what did you do with him?”

“I already told you most of it.”

Marianne was trying so hard to look tired, but Dawn was not about to let something like this go.

“But there’s more.  Tell us!”

“Later, Dawn.”

“C’mon, we got a long ride ahead of us.  Please?”

“Marianne, she won’t stop until you do.”

Marianne sighed, knowing Sunny was right.

“I know.  I just want to delay it as much as possible.”

“Why? Because he actually is King? He’s your Goblin King! Did you see the other guys with him? They’re all dressed as goblins.  He _is_ a Goblin King! Yours.”

“Dawn, do you want to hear the rest of this, or not?”

“Yes,” she said, pouting.

“Good, then let me tell you about the Dark Forest.”

Dawn put her hands under her chin and looked expectantly at her sister.

“Did you get lost?”

“No.  We raced.  He picked me up.  We lay on a dock and enjoyed the river.  And a weird gypsy told us our fortune despite us telling her that we didn’t believe in what she did.”

“That’s odd.  What did she say?”

“She said that we would do great things together.”

“I knew it! You were meant to play music together!”

“Dawn-“

“Oh, better yet! You’re going to fall in love over playing music together.  He will sing to you, just like Jareth, and you’ll be swept away by him.”

“Sunny, drive faster.”

“Aye, aye, Captain Marianne.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Disclaimer: No, I don’t own Strange Magic, or any songs that I mention in this story. All rights go to their respective owners. Ah, the joys of Renaissance festivals. I love them so much. I’ve been to 2 different ones, so I’ve taken experiences from both and combined them into this festival. Also, all credit for the kilt idea goes to kiyomi-chan16 on deviantart, as that needed to happen. I’m very fond of the Washing Well Wenches, and for a reason. They entertain me, and I love them to bits. I’m not good with describing action scenes, so that fight is about all I got for now. Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!


	4. The First Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bog and Marianne practice music and bond... over music and their hatred of silly love songs.

“So, Bog? Have you called that nice girl yet?”

Bog spit out the water he was drinking as he heard the first words from his mother over the phone.

“Mother! Why can’t you just let me live in peace?”

“Because no son of mine is going to die alone.  And I want grandchildren.  Besides, there’s this old friend of mine who has a daughter named Maxine, and I think you two would hit it off-“

Bog had no intention of being set up on another blind date by his mother.  The last time he had, Lakeesha had been her name, and the night ended fast.  Ever since that fateful day, he had no desire to be in a relationship, even if Marianne was different and beautiful. 

 “I’m helping Marianne with her sister’s wedding,” said Bog, trying to quiet his mother.

“You know her name? This is wonderful! Why didn’t you say so?”

Bog could hear his mother dancing in place, probably already picking out a church.  He raised his eyebrows in annoyance before answering.

“Because I have no expectations from this other than to get paid.  I don’t want you to expect anything or try to stalk her like you have with other girls.”

“I was only trying to help.  If they couldn’t handle that, they had no business being with you.”

Bog laughed at the thought of all the meddling his mother did in his life, including visiting the girls’ homes and having tea with them.  He may live far away from her and see her only once a week, but she was a big presence in his life, the only family he had around.  Anyone he married would have to deal with her, and he did not want to inflict her upon anyone else.  Nor was he ready to have his heart be broken again.

“Nonetheless, this is just a little music practice.  Marianne has a list ready for us to learn.  I’m going tomorrow, and no, I’m not going to tell her that you say hello, before you ask.”

Bog smiled at the thought of his mother pouting that she could not poke her head in and invite Marianne over for snacks and tea.

“Fine, Bog, be that way.  Such thanks for the woman who carried you for over nine months in her womb,” she grumbled.

“Is there an actual reason for your call, Mother?”

“Nope!” chirped Griselda, “I just wanted to know if you had gotten the paper and called her.  I’m so glad you did! Bye now!”

Griselda hung up the phone while Bog stared in wonder at his.  He could not figure out his mother, and probably never would. 

Once Bog put away his phone, he went back to guitar practice.  It had been a while since he had played longer than twenty minutes, so the last couple days he had been getting back into it.  When it was finally time for the practice, he brought both instruments, just in case Marianne changed her mind and wanted him to play the violin.

While Bog drove, Marianne prepped the music room for habitation, as it had turned into a good storage area in recent months for the wedding.  Dawn was supposed to be helping, but really was not.

“So, has Sunny given you his requests yet?”

Dawn gave her biggest puppy dog eyes while Marianne waved the cuteness away.  Both Dawn and Sunny wanted certain songs to be played at their reception, to sing to the other, and Dawn had given her requests already. 

“I’m not telling.  Are you going to pick up stuff or just walk in a circle around it?” said Marianne in exasperation.

“I’m helping, see? So, are you ready to spend some quality time with your Goblin King?”

“Dawn, what did I tell you about calling him that?”

“Would you prefer Boggy-woggy Kingy-wingy?”

Marianne threw a pillow at her sister, which started an all-out pillow fight before Dawn gave up, her competitive side nowhere near as fierce as Marianne’s, nor her aim as keen.

“But seriously,” said Dawn when Marianne gave up at last, “are you sure that you’re okay doing this with him? I want you to enjoy yourself.  You’re maid of honor and already have a lot going on.  I don’t want this to ruin it for you.”

Marianne got up and hugged her sister.

“Thanks for the support, Sis.  If anything does happen, I promise to let you know.  But, based on what I know of him, I think we’re going to get along just fine.”

“So can I invite him to stay for dinner with us?” asked Dawn a little too eagerly.

Marianne shook her head and smiled.

“If he gets through today, then yes.  We’ll see.  Look for my signal.”

“Okay!” squealed Dawn.

A knock came to the door then, and both girls looked at each other in panic.  The room was still a mess.

“Dawn, you clean up, and I’ll get the door.”

“Wait, why do I have to clean all this up?” asked Dawn pouting.

“Because you instigated this pillow fight, and you make this room look better than I can, with all your interior decorator skills.”

“Only because I love you,” said Dawn with grin.

Marianne rushed to the door and saw that no one was there.  She was confused until she saw the violin and guitar cases sitting on her porch.  Then she heard a grunt from an unknown car in her driveway.

“Bog, do you need some help?”

Marianne went to the back of the car, where Bog was leaning over to pick something up.

“Marianne, is that you? No, I’m good, just taking music stands out of my-“

Bog backed up to the edge of the trunk and turned around, only to find Marianne in his personal space.  The next word died in his mouth as they stared at one another in the close quarters.  He finally spoke again. 

“You could have warned me you were there.  What are you, a ninja?”

“Everybody was kung-fu fight-ing!” rang out a shrill, female voice from the side of the car.

“I take it back,” said Bog gruffly as he looked at Dawn, “it’s a family trait.”

“Hi, Bog!” said Dawn waving and jumping up and down.

“Dawn,” mumbled Bog as he scratched the back of his head.

“Well, are you coming inside or what? Or are you gonna stare awkwardly and talk out here instead?”

Sunny drove by just then, honking his horn.  Dawn waved to Bog before bear-hugging her older sister and running to join Sunny for some wedding planning.

“Is Dawn always like that?” said Bog looking at the place where Dawn once was.

“Oh yes, there’s just so much energy.  Try living with her.”

Both smiled, and Marianne went to grab the instruments while Bog brought in the music stands and music he had.  Once they settled into a clutter-free music room, Marianne began to explain the basic set-up of the wedding day and how they fit in.

“Once the ceremony is over, all of the invited guests will come to the reception.  There’s an open bar and live music being played for all of it, as those two love going to concerts and singing.  We play for the first hour, and then the paid musicians come in.  We just have to learn enough stuff to cover about forty minutes, as the rest will probably be the happy couple giving an introduction to the song and saying how much they love the other.”

“That sounds really sappy,” said Bog with a scowl.

“I haven’t even begun to tell you about the decorations,” said Marianne half-joking, half-serious. 

“I don’t want to know.”

“Too bad, you are,” said Marianne with a laugh, “as I don’t want you to be shocked into silence by all the shades of red, orange, and pink that will be there.”

“Will our eyes be treated to an infinite number of hearts, rainbows, unicorns, and all that other romantic nonsense?”

“You bet,” said Marianne.

“Is there worse?” asked Bog in horror.

Marianne continued to speak of the decorations and enjoyed watching Bog’s face become even paler at the thought of so much red.

“There are far better ways to celebrate their love, or they could just not decorate,” said Bog when Marianne had finished.

“This is a labor of love for Dawn, and she is designing it all herself.  She does a little every day in preparation.”

“But still! There are better ways to spend that time, such as with Sunny.”

 Marianne laughed until she saw Bog’s confused face.

“Sorry about that, but you said exactly the same thing I said to Dawn when I found out what her decorating plans were.  It’s funny.”

After that, the two began their practice.  Marianne played some scales on her piano, while Bog played a few chords of “Smoke on the Water” on his guitar.  Marianne shot him a dirty look, and he grinned.

Once both were ready, Marianne began drilling him on what songs he knew, seeing if they shared any.  That led into a discussion about the range in which they would be playing.  Marianne knew that Dawn was a soprano, and Sunny a tenor, so it was a simple matter of transposing the music as needed.  They would eventually practice with both Sunny and Dawn, but not until they had the main songs down.

“So what’s the first song we have to practice? Please tell me it’s not ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’,” said Bog seriously.

“Don’t say those words out loud! The walls have ears,” whispered Marianne as she clapped her hands over his mouth.

Bog gave Marianne a helpless, confused look.  Then his face turned pink.  Marianne was surprised by the quiet until she realized that she was still touching Bog and pulled away.

“Sorry, but no, they haven’t requested it, and I’m hoping they don’t.  I might pull out my hair if I had to practice that for multiple hours a day.  I hate it.”

“I hate it more.  I’m glad I’m not the only one,” said Bog with relief, “as hearing that song makes me sick.  I can’t help it.  Really, anyone in love is a fool-“

“Rushing into something that will bind them to trouble and misery-” interrupted Marianne, inching closer to Bog in commiseration.

“For the rest of their lives,” added Bog, moving closer as well.

“All the lies, pain, and sorrow they could ask for,” said Marianne as she realized that she could now feel the heat radiating off of Bog’s body.  So close, and then she looked up.

For a moment, the two memorized the color of each other’s eyes as they shared in their hatred of love.  Bog cleared his throat, and Marianne moved away.

“I’m confused, Marianne.  If you hate love so much, why are you so supportive of Dawn?”

“I thought I already explained to you how they got together.”

“Yes, but I thought you would put up more of a fight to protect Dawn or something.  And you’re just letting her do whatever she wants.”

“Not true, on either count,” countered Marianne.

Bog gave her a disbelieving look, so Marianne started talking again.

“I’ve known Sunny for more than ten years.  I trust him with Dawn; I know that he would lay down his life for her.  It’s also really hard to say no to those two when you see what nonsense my father put them through, questioning both at every turn with his prejudices.  He’s never liked Sunny, and it took a long time for him to agree to the wedding.  I told them to just elope as our Dad will forgive them for wanting to be happy.”

“I didn’t realize your dad was such a stick in the mud,” said Bog, his tone soft.

“Ever since Mom died, he has been very stuck in his ways.  He used to be clueless about our love lives until Dawn started dating Sunny and I-“

Marianne did not want to say Roland’s name out loud.  Nor talk about him.

“What did you do, Marianne?”

“I refused to be with the guy my Dad thought best for me.  Simple as that.  Now, as for letting Dawn do whatever, believe me when I say that I have nixed about three other designs for decorations, all far worse than this one.”

“Worse? Not imagining it.  What’s our first song?”

“Our first song to play will be Queen’s ‘You’re My Best Friend’.  It’s funny because both requested that song.”

Bog chuckled at the idea of the two both trying to sing at the same time and realizing it later.  It would be funny at first and later sickeningly sweet.

Marianne gave the music to Bog, and then they began, first with Marianne singing and Bog playing a few chords until the right range was found.  Then she stopped singing.

“You don’t have to stop singing, Marianne.  You have a good voice.  Beautiful, actually.”

Marianne blushed before shaking her head.

“Thanks, Bog.  I need to practice piano, though, as I’m rusty.  I can sing later.”

Marianne had no desire to sing and had not since to any great extent since breaking up with Roland.  She just did not feel as though she had a reason to sing, and she did not want to talk about it more than necessary.  Dawn was the only exception to her rule of no singing, and she planned to keep it to a minimum. 

After they practiced and got a good start on that song, the two began the next song.  They were twenty minutes into practicing it when Marianne got up suddenly and went to the kitchen. 

Bog followed, wondering why she left without a word.  He walked into the kitchen to see Marianne put on her music, and “Barracuda” came on.  She stood there, holding a kitchen knife in her left hand like a blade, as though poised to fight, muttering about an “Evil Roland”. 

“Marianne? Are you alright?”

Most love songs made Marianne feel ill because of the silly things that they represented, as well as reminded her of the times she had been stupid and spent with Roland.  All she wanted to do was run away from the music and punch Roland for being the lying, cheating, chattering pig he was.

“I’m fine, I promise.  But I just can’t practice those silly love songs for very long.”

“I didn’t want to, either.  You’d think that people would have had enough of silly love songs.  Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs, and I say we don’t have to, unless it’s for your sister.”   

Marianne smiled and giggled at his phrasing before reaching to turn the music off, still not facing Bog.  Bog recalled hearing the name from Marianne at the renaissance festival, and then he made the connection to shiny helmet jerk. 

“C’mon, Tough Girl.  Let’s take a break and do some non-love songs.  Just live and let die.”

Marianne turned around and smiled a genuine smile.  If nothing else, the two could connect over music.  It made Bog feel warm inside for reasons he could or would not explain fully to himself.  He had helped her, and he found that liked doing so.

After an hour of dueling with their respective instruments, one ending on a chord and the next picking up with that for a different song, the pair went back to practicing more songs for the wedding.  Marianne found the love songs more bearable when Bog did facial impressions of Thang while playing and mouthing the words.  Shorter breaks were taken after that, but they still managed to make progress with a couple of songs before Dawn and Sunny came home, Sunny carrying a delicious-smelling pot of food.  

“Hey, you music fiends! Ready to eat?” asked Dawn upon seeing the smile on Marianne’s face.

“You bet,” said Marianne, grabbing Bog’s wrist and dragging him to the table so that they could eat right away.  Marianne was famished.  Bog let himself be dragged, the promise of food too tempting to pass up. 

“So? How did your first practice go?” asked Dawn eagerly.

“Well, we didn’t punch each other,” said Marianne.

“And we have discovered that we share similar interests in music,” added Bog.

“And Bog should be forced to lip-sync to all love songs, just so I can handle them,” finished Marianne.

The pair looked at each other, then at Sunny and Dawn’s surprised faces, and then back at one another, laughing at the couple’s confusion.

The rest of the meal passed by well, Dawn and Sunny taking their turn to talk about what they had accomplished once Bog and Marianne made it clear that they had made progress.  When Bog left, Marianne went ahead with the instruments to open the door for Bog.  Dawn grabbed Bog at the front door.

“Did my sister sing today?”

“A little,” said Bog, raising an eyebrow.

“Wonderful! And did she act odd at all when you worked on some of the songs?”

“By odd, do you mean her getting up and leaving, putting on other songs?”

“Yep, that’s my sister,” said Dawn with a frown.

“She only did it once, and we talked after.  Then I tried to help by making strange faces at her while we played certain songs.”

Dawn clapped her hands and hugged Bog.  Marianne might one day sing again; she was sure of it!

“I haven’t seen my sister this happy in so long.  Thanks, Bog.  You’re welcome to visit anytime.  Just don’t tell Marianne I said that.”

Bog returned the hug and left a waving Dawn.  Marianne was sitting on the edge of the trunk when he got to his car.

“What did my sister say?” she asked.

“She wanted to know how you were during rehearsal, if you were handling the songs alright.  She knows we handle it well together.”

Marianne reached out and took one of Bog’s hands, a smile on her face.

“Thanks.  I want to do this for her.  The more we do this, the easier it will be,” she said, squeezing his hand.

“Together, we can overcome our aversion to love songs and just make fun of them always,” said Bog, sticking out his tongue one last time at Marianne.

Both laughed, eyes linked on one another.  Bog wanted to go since it was late, but he felt bad with Marianne holding his hand.  He squirmed a little before she noticed and let go.  Another awkward look was shared between them as Bog got into the car, and then he was gone.

Bog did not want to admit it out loud (especially near his mother), but he knew that their music practices were going to turn into more.  In that one day, she had let him in to see her hurt, and she had accepted his comfort, even if it was not in the most traditional way.  It also occurred to him that she still had not told him about Roland.  He planned to fix that at the next meeting. 

As Marianne watched Bog leave, she thought back to what he had last said.

“I don’t think we’ll ever completely get over our aversion to those songs, but I’m all for replacing all my bad memories with ones of him.”     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Disclaimer: No, I don’t own Strange Magic, or any songs that I mention in this story. All rights go to their respective owners. One of my goals for my longer stories is to mention each song in Strange Magic. This story focuses on oldies. Also, I can see Bog making fun of Thang easily, and you just know that Bog would make faces to make Marianne feel better, besides with a good spar. Don’t worry, there will be more sparring later on, but first they need to talk about their bad choices in love. Thanks so much for reading! I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5: The Second Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bog and Marianne practice more, and learn more about each other's pasts with love. They bond with more music. Warnings for gratuitous ELO references, but not the main one we all want.

“Long, long, time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile.”

Never had words rung so true for Marianne.  Once upon a time, she had loved to sing.  She sang all the time with Roland, and then she stopped.  They were ruined by Roland.  She hated Roland for it, but the music still hurt more.

It was in those moments that Marianne selfishly wished that Dawn was not getting married, so she would not have to deal with all the ache that came with prepping the love songs.  Her only comfort for the longest time was that Dawn had the best, most loving guy there was.  Since meeting a fellow love-hater in Bog, things had changed a little for Marianne.

Dawn stood at the entrance to the kitchen, meaning to ask Marianne what time Bog was coming over.  However, Dawn was enjoying watching her sister sway to Don McClean’s bittersweet song too much to disturb her.  Marianne still listened to music after her break-up with Roland, but she never sang, and rarely danced in her unique way that she only did while cleaning the home or was at a party.  Usually, Marianne’s face was expressionless, but not anymore.  Small changes kept coming.

When the song was over, Dawn asked, “When is Boggy coming over?”

Marianne jumped and hissed as she turned.  “What?”

“When is Boggy coming over today?”

“Bog.  He’s coming soon,” said Marianne, “so be ready.” 

“Could you give me a sign or something for when I should go? I want to make sure I give you the alone time you need -“

It was then that Marianne’s cell phone started to ring.  She looked at the callerID and laughed.

“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear,” said Marianne with a smile.  Then, she surprised Dawn by giving Dawn a pointed look and singing, just like she had once upon a time before the Fateful Day, “Oh, oh, telephone line, give me some time.  I’m living in twilight.”

After that, Marianne answered Bog, some hint of the song still in her voice as she said, “Hello.  How are you? Have you been alright?”

Marianne could hear the smile in his voice as he continued in the same strain as her, “Hey.  How you feelin’? I’m just fine, other than running late.  Can the practice wait a few minutes?”

“No, Bog, it can’t.  I turn to stone while you are gone,” deadpanned Marianne.

Both Bog and Marianne laughed as they seemed to share an inside joke.  Dawn gave up on understanding the relationship between them and decided that she needed to talk to Sunny.  She waved good-bye to Marianne, and called Sunny to let him know that she was heading over.

Fifteen minutes later, Bog pulled into the driveway, listening to Steppenwolf’s “Magic Carpet Ride”.  Some part of him wondered if he bringing up Roland today would turn their calm practice into a wild ride, full of emotion and old hurts.  But all the same, Bog wanted to see Marianne smile, just like before.  If he knew what hurt, he would not bring it up.

Soon, Marianne was outside, ready to help bring instruments inside.  Bog gladly took the help, electing to grab a large pot from his front seat as well.

“What’s in there?” asked Marianne, trying to smell the contents.

“That’s our dinner tonight; it’s the reason I’m late,” confided Bog.  “I felt bad after taking your food at last practice, so I decided to make enough for all four of us. It’s a family stew.”

“Stew?” came Marianne’s skeptical response. 

“Yes, stew.  It’s from my mother’s side of the family,” replied Bog as he shook his head, as though it were obvious.  “Mother loves her stew.  It’s the only thing she took the time to show me how to make.”

Marianne walked into the house, her face still skeptical.  Bog huffed and continued after her.  She would understand when she tried his stew.

“You in an ELO kind of mood today?” asked Bog when they had dropped everything inside the house.  Marianne nodded as she helped set up the practice with Bog.

“I’m always in an ELO mood.  They’re my favorite band,” said Marianne proudly.

“Good! I’m glad we share the same interest in bands.  We’ll have to compare favorite songs at some point,” said Bog getting excited as went over to stand in front of Marianne.

Marianne’s face broke out in a grin upon hearing his declaration.  She leaned on the backside of the sofa and bent her head back so that she could smile at him, nodding in excitement.  Bog leaned over the front of the sofa at an awkward angle and placed his hands next to Marianne’s, leaning down so that his chin could almost touch the flyaway bangs on Marianne’s face.  He grinned back, glad to have another shared interest. 

For several moments, the two smiled like oblivious idiots.  Bog realized their close proximity first, so he tried to move back as he spoke.

So, what are our plans for practice today?” asked Bog, wanting to change the topic.

Marianne noticed the closeness and started backing up.  To cover up her nervousness and feelings of awkwardness, she started counting quickly on her fingers all the things she wanted to do that practice, much to Bog’s increasing concern in her belief in their ability to practice.

“Today, we’re learning the other two songs needed for the beginning of the reception.  Sunny wants to sing Chicago’s ‘Just You N Me’, and Dawn wants to sing Stevie Wonder’s ‘You Are the Sunshine of My Life’.  Once we get a good handle on those two, we’ll mix in ‘You’re My Best Friend’, and then the other songs from last week.  After that, I’ve got a list of other songs I think we should start-“

Bog thought they would need more practice time, and once she got past the individual songs, Marianne started speaking even faster. 

Still caught up in thoughts of sharing the same favorite band, Bog interrupted Marianne and said, “You gotta slow down, slow down, sweet talkin’ woman.”

Marianne laughed as she headed toward the piano.  As she sat down, she pointed a finger at Bog and started playing the first few notes of “Don’t Bring Me Down”.

“Hey, Bog, don’t slow me down,” replied Marianne as she lifted her head over the piano to punctuate the first few words.  “We got lots to do today.  I got faith in us.”

“I’m glad one of us does,” muttered Bog as he began to tune his instrument.

The two made it through the requested songs without too much trouble, Marianne singing only as needed.  Bog kept an eye on Marianne’s mood once they moved into the other songs from the previous week.  About halfway through the second non-requested song, Marianne’s face contorted slightly, and she was starting to squirm.  Bog requested a hand break, which Marianne quickly agreed to.

Marianne rushed off to the kitchen, getting some water and turning on the radio.  Once she finished her water, Bog decided that now was a good time to ask about Roland.  After checking on the stew, he spoke.

“So, Tough Girl, when are you going to tell me more about this loser named Roland that’s ruined music for you?”

At first, Marianne just chewed on her lip in various places, trying to stall for time.  She had said she would tell him, and she did really want Bog to know.  He deserved to know the rest, and he seemed like he would understand since he felt the same about love.  The problem was that she did not know where to begin, and she did not want to relive the pain of the time.  It had been hard telling Dawn, but she felt it was necessary after Dawn became engaged to Sunny.  Sunny knew because Dawn had asked if she could tell him, but otherwise, no one knew.  Marianne’s father was infatuated with the idea of having Roland as son-in-law and thought him perfect, so there was no way Marianne would be believed, as sad as it was.  His pushing Roland at her multiple times after the break-up was all the confirmation that Marianne needed.

When Bog saw how uncomfortable Marianne was, he put his hands out in front of himself and started to speak, trying to convince Marianne to wait and not do it until she was ready.  But, right after he started talking, the radio started a new, familiar song to both.

_“So now it's getting late, for those who hesitate, got no one._

_But they don't understand, and no one hears the sound._

_It's like a waterfall; it's an illusion._

_Love is all, waterfall; love is what you are._

_Pulls you in, takes you down; it's a sad affair._

_But you know as you hold back the power there without the friends_

_And lovers you could never go on living.”_

 

That was all the encouragement that Marianne needed to take Bog’s outstretched hand, effectively quieting him.  She led him to the kitchen table and indicated for him to sit.  Bog sat next to her, looking worried.  He tried one more time.

“Marianne, if you don’t want to tell me, don’t feel as though you have to,” said Bog, looking her in the eye.

“I _do_ want to tell you, though.  I’ve wanted to tell you.  It’s some story,” replied Marianne, gripping the edges of the kitchen chair’s seat, keeping eye contact with him for a moment before looking down.

When Marianne looked up again, she kept her gaze locked on Bog’s blue eyes, to make things easier.  Focusing on him made it a little easier.

“So, you already know the basics of my sordid history with Roland.  I met him a few years ago, and I thought he was the most handsome guy around.  For reasons unknown to me, he asked me out.  After that, we dated for a year, and then we got engaged.  We did everything together, singing, Renaissance Festivals, karaoke at bars, parties, etc.  I gave so much to him to please him.  He always had a better idea of how I should act as a proper lady, so I stopped doing certain things because he told me to.  I gave up fencing, for example.  I should’ve realized it then.”

“Realized what?” asked Bog curiously.

“That any man that asks me to change doesn’t want me for who I am or truly loves me,” sighed Marianne.  “It wasn’t-“

“Real,” finished Bog slowly.

“Yeah,” said Marianne, smiling at him for a moment and pulling her hands off of the chair, into her lap.  “It wasn’t real.  But I did all those things with him, and did everything asked, to fit in and be perfect.  I thought it was perfect.  Sure I had doubts, as rumors circulated about him being good with the ladies, but there was always that small part of me that doubted that he could love me, with how good he was.”

“But you’re so much better,” said Bog, ducking his head for making such a comment.  This was not the time for him to speak of his admiration (and only admiration, he reminded himself) for her.

Marianne gave a sad smile before continuing.

“I didn’t realize that until later.  But anyways, Roland and I planned our wedding.  He spent lots of time with me and the bridesmaids making sure that everything was perfect.  Then, the day of the wedding took place, and I found him in our honeymoon suite, naked with one of the bridesmaids.  I had wanted to give him his boutonniere, and I ended up throwing that and slamming the door in his face.  Needless to say, I called off the wedding.”

“And he’s been trying to get back with you since?” asked Bog incredulously, trying to figure out who in their right mind would do that.

“Oh yes,” grumbled Marianne, “ever since.  He said it was a ‘misunderstanding’, and has been telling my dad that so that he can get more information about me.  He keeps following me.  I’ve seen him flirt with other girls, so he clearly hasn’t changed.  Not that I’d give him another chance.  I didn’t meet him until after my dad changed his will, giving me a larger inheritance.  He always talked about all the changes he wanted to make to his family’s home, and how when we were richer, we’d do it just the way we wanted it.  I can’t believe I bought into his crap.”

Marianne stamped her foot on the floor in frustration, upset with herself.  Bog cautiously placed a hand on her arm, calming her down at once.  She looked up at him, her eyes seeking his.

“Thanks.  I needed that.  But ever since then, things have changed.  I don’t trust men, or people for that matter.  I can’t.  The worst part is all the memories of going to certain places with him.  I can’t escape him, even if physically for a short time.  He took me so many places, and I can remember laughing with him, or just doing cutesy couple stuff.  I almost didn’t go back to the Renaissance festival, but Dawn convinced me otherwise.”

“But you still are hesitant with music?” asked Bog, trying to understand.

“Yes.  Roland loves to sing.  He insisted we do lots of duets.  That is why to this day I won’t listen to Elvis’ ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’, because of Roland.  We sang that to each other so much.  I want to erase that song from my memory.  Then he had the nerve to sing ‘C’mon Marianne’ to me the first time he came back, as though that would help his case.  He keeps twirling his hair like a pretty boy and singing, trying to woo me back.  It’s frustrating as he sings, and he just keeps on ruining more songs for me.  I don’t want to remember his stupid face and voice anymore.”

“That sucks,” said Bog, squeezing Marianne’s arm. 

“I’m in a constant state of lookout, it seems.  But I’ve learned my lesson from it about love, how it lies to you.  Now, I keep my guard up.”

“I’m the same way, in more ways than you realize,” said Bog, pulling away from Marianne as he remembered his own problems with love.

“What do you mean?” asked Marianne, confused by Bog pulling away. 

She moved her chair closer to him and reached out a hand to him as he had done for her.  He kept away from the outstretched hand, and she realized that he was trying to avoid physical touch.  Looking back on their previous interactions, he had always been like that, so she kept in her seat, waiting to see if he would say any more on the subject.  She did not have to wait long.

Bog kept his eyes away from Marianne, but he spoke clearly and calmly. 

“I fell in love with a girl once.  We dated for a short time, and then I got overly anxious and proposed.  She rejected me, telling me I was delusional and hideous.  We had never been very affectionate with one another, but I found out why after that fateful day.  That was when I realized that I was too hideous to be loved.”

“You’re not hideous,” said Marianne.  She emphasized her words by reaching out and touching his shoulder, making him cringe slightly.  “A little tall and dark, but there’s plenty of girls out there that find that attractive.  She’s clearly crazy.”

Bog grimaced at her later words, trying to smile.  Her earlier words comforted him a little, but she was just being nice.  That was all it was, he told himself.

“Crazy or not, I pushed too soon and scared her off.  She’s the only one who’s ever shown something close to interest in me.  Poor, sweet thing.”

“It’s okay, Bog.  Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  I learned that after dealing with Roland.  Beauty is more than skin deep.  It’s what’s on the inside that counts.  You’ve got that; Roland doesn’t.  He’s so in love with himself that I think Carly Simon must’ve met Roland when she created that song.  It fits him so well, even if I’ll never sing it around him for fear of making his ego even bigger than it already is.”

Laughing, Bog continued in a similar strain, “But I’m sure that’s not the only song you’d use for him.”

“Oh no,” said Marianne standing up, “if I could him down long enough, I’d step on his precious little nose and sing ‘These Boots Are for Walking’.  I’d enjoy that.  But my favorite one is the one you might have heard me singing last week.”

Bog stood up as well, trying to get feeling back into his feet.

“You mean, the part where ‘Evil Woman’ becomes ‘Evil Roland’?”

“Oh yes, that song.  He’s evil.”

“But I thought I was evil,” said Bog, putting a fist on his chest in pride.

Marianne looked Bog up and down for a moment before saying, “Nah, you’re just trouble.”

That comment made Bog grin.  Clearing his throat, he started singing the words made famous by Elvis, “If you’re looking for trouble, you came to the right place.  If you’re looking for trouble, just look right in my face.”

“Oh, I believe you,” said Marianne.  “You’ve been nothing but trouble since I met you.”

“And it’s all in the name of love,” said Bog with a sneer.  When “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” came on the radio, his sneer only deepened.  “Why would anyone subject themselves to the lies and pain of love? Are they crazy?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe because people are strange?” asked Marianne.

Bog nodded, starting to walk toward the music room.  When he made it to his guitar, he played the first few bars of the Doors’ “People are Strange”.  Marianne applauded him from the kitchen.

“Yep, I think that sums up people’s strange fascination with love,” said Marianne, reaching for the radio to turn it off.  But just as she was about to, another song came on, this time being “Love Is Strange”.  After hearing the first verse, Marianne added, “Well, I think the radio gets the last word on this topic.  Love is strange, just like people are.”

After that, the pair started practicing in earnest, Bog lip-syncing with the songs again, encouraging Marianne to actually sing more.  It worked.  She sang, if only to get more exaggerated responses from Bog. 

It was during their next break that Marianne decided to vent out more of her frustration with love songs.  Playing certain ones for Sunny and Dawn were fine, but it was all too much for her to take, the love that shined all around her from all the songs they played. 

“Do people really pay attention to what is being said in some of these songs? I feel like they are some of the simplest, silliest songs around.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Tough Girl,” said Bog stretching out and heading for the sofa. 

Marianne soon joined him on the sofa, and one song immediately came to mind.  The bad part was that it was true in a way for her, as Bog had been on her mind when she woke up that morning.  It helped to rail against it.

“Yeah.  I mean, think about ‘You Were on My Mind’.  It just repeats those certain phrases over and over again.  Worse, it’s kind of creepy to be thinking about a person that much.”

“Oh yes,” said Bog, looking away for a moment as he considered the fact that Marianne had been on his mind as well that morning.  “I think it’s bad, but there’s far worse.  Just think about ‘Somebody to Love’.”

“Ugh, you’re right,” said Marianne, cringing.  “Dawn says it’s so deep, but really, half of the song is spent repeating that one phrase over and over again, as though he’s some kind of mindless robot, needing somebody to love.  No thanks.  And if it’s not repeating the same phrase constantly, then the song is just super sappy, like ‘Love is All Around’.  Now that song drives me nuts.  I think the only time I enjoyed the song was when _Love Actually_ used the song for Christmas, which is just as perfect, showing it to be the super sappy crap that it is.” 

“And really, that whole movie is awful romantically speaking, for all the broken relationships and whatnot going on,” said Bog, excited to talk about movies.  “The honest trailer for it was right.  It’s honest about what love is, complicated, and how painful it is.”

“Which is another conversation for another day,” said Marianne.  “Some people like it for all the complicated twists and turns, but it doesn’t make sense to me.  But don’t get me started on movies.”

“So now’s not the time to bring up the other big song in that movie that deserves mentioning for what it advocates?” asked a put-out Bog.

“Which one is that?” answered Marianne, trying to recall and failing from doing a good job of blotting it out of her mind.

“The one by the Beatles,” said Bog, as though it were totally obvious.  “Who can forget their rendition of ‘All You Need is Love’?”

“Ha! I did forget about that one.  But that’s because I tried to live like that.  And what did it get me? A broken heart.”

At that, Bog heard Marianne start to hum “I’ll Never Fall in Love Again” as she took a fist and slammed it into her open hand.  Bog nodded in silent agreement at the song choice.

When Marianne was finished, she looked up at Bog, and he elbowed her, trying to get her out of the pensive mood.

“I know a good one for us, Tough Girl.  I think you know this one,” he said, a smirk coming onto his face.  He sang, “You love her, but she loves him.”

By the time he got to the refrain for “Love Stinks”, both were singing it loudly, enjoying themselves as they yelled at love.  At the end, both were panting and grinning.

“We need to do that more often,” said Bog at last.  “That felt good.” 

“It’s a good change not dealing with love like that,” replied Marianne.  “I feel free.”

Bog started echoing Marianne’s phrase, repeating it a few times before Marianne started humming along, and then both started singing that song, though in a much-exaggerated manner, with large, sweeping gestures with their hands for freedom as they sang along.

“That’s another silly song,” laughed Marianne.  “And oh, there are others.  So many others.  I just think about songs like Queen’s ‘Play the Game’, and I wonder why anyone would submit themselves to love.  Why play that game? It’s not fun.  At least we have fun making fun of everything.”

“I’m not sure, Tough Girl.  I wish I understood.  Love is weird.  One moment, you’re low and singing ‘People Are Strange’, and the next you’re in a state of brainwashed happiness, singing ‘Hello, I Love You’.  It’s odd and complicated.”

At the mention of the second song by the Doors, Bog found himself singing part of it to emphasize his point.  It also helped that he enjoyed their music in general, but he was sure Marianne felt similarly.

At first, he sang it to Marianne with odd facial expressions, making her laugh.  By the second refrain, he used significantly less facial expressions and focused on the smile that slowly made its way onto Marianne’s face.  By the third refrain, he had no idea that he was now just singing it to Marianne because he wanted to, as some part of him does find her very attractive.  He lowered his voice as he sang the last two lines, the last set of hellos to her almost a caress as he leaned in without realizing it.

When he finished singing, both were staring at one another, lips so close to touching.  Bog once again realized their closeness and pulled back, almost afraid to touch Marianne and break the connection that they had.

As he pulled away, Marianne seemed to be more hurt by it, a deep frown coming onto her face.  Frustrated by her reaction, Bog thought about something else he could sing to make her see the need for distance, and soon, an idea came. 

_“I came along to see your face,_

_But the only thing I got from you_

_Was telling me it’s fantasy,_

_That you would always be with me.”_

 

Marianne gave Bog a _look_ as he continued, she not happy about him singing a song about being alone like that.  As long as she was around, she would be there for him.  She responded back with a song of her own, “Livin’ Thing”.  As she got to the part in the second verse about the worst day, she eyed Bog, trying to make him listen and understand.  He may have felt like he was alone, or that things were bad.  But, that was not the case anymore with her there. 

When Marianne finished with that song, the two sat in silence, absorbing the other’s presence.  Marianne did not often feel such a connection to another person, but with Bog, it was different.  It was easy to sing, and even easier to understand him.  She did not want to punch him, and he accepted her as she was, for all her oddities and differences.  He encouraged it.  That alone was enough to recommend him to her.  In that moment, Marianne knew that they would be good friends.  It was okay to want to spend time with friends, to care about them.  And now knowing what had happened to Bog, she wanted him to know that he was not a hideous monster.  She did reach for his hand, and she was pleased to see him take it without cringing.  It was a start.

Bog had many mixed feelings about Marianne as she took his hand.  He wanted that connection to her, which was rare.  What they shared was different from anything he had ever experienced before , and he wanted to know what it was.  Some part of him was afraid that this could turn into more, but the rest of him was selfish and wanted Marianne to be there for him.  She reached out to him in a way no one else did beside his mother, and she understood him.  In such a short time, she had already given him so much, between friendship and trust.  He wanted to be worthy of it.

The two sat on the sofa until Dawn opened the front door.  Once they heard her perky voice, they pulled apart, but still looked into one another’s eyes, seeking out the mutual feeling that both had in their eyes.  They met the engaged couple in the kitchen, where Dawn was smelling the stew.

“Mmm, what’s this? It smells amazing!”

“That would be my mother’s family stew.  I brought it here to share with you since you fed me last time,” said Bog.

Dawn proceeded to go up and Bog, who took it as well and stiffly as possible.  Afterward, Sunny came up and shook his hand, thanking him. 

Dinner was quick, as everyone was hungry.  The stew went over well, and all praised Bog for his cooking, making him blush at least once when Marianne complimented him.  After dinner, Bog left, ready to go home.  Marianne walked him out to his car, thanking him for another good practice. 

When Bog was inside the car, he saluted Marianne and then rested his hand on the edge of the completely open car window.  “Until next time, Tough Girl.  I’ll be ready to take on the rest of the songs you have in mind.”

“You better be,” teased Marianne.  “The wedding is closer than you think, and time is short.”

“Is that meant to be a reference to something?” asked Bog, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, sort-of, to a movie you haven’t seen yet.  Don’t worry about it,” tapping his hand with her own.  “I’ll show it to you some night.  Then you’ll realize that I wasn’t trying to insult you when we first met.”

“Whatever you say, Tough Girl,” he said, grabbing her hand and grasping it for a moment.  After that, he let go and drove home.  As he drove home, he considered all that had been accomplished at practice, but his mind kept going back to them singing together loudly to “Love Stinks”.  That had been an incredible feeling.

Inside her home, Marianne put on the radio again and helped dry and put away the dishes that Dawn and Sunny had already cleaned. 

“Marianne, I talked to Sunny about this today, and we have agreed on something.  I just want to run it by you first,” said Dawn, turning around facing her sister.

“What is it?” asked Marianne, a little concerned.

“It seems to us that you and Bog get along well.  I want to invite him to stay for the whole ceremony and reception.  He seems nice, and if he makes the whole day more bearable for you, then I want to include him.  Are you okay with me doing that?”

Marianne did not respond at first, surprised that Dawn would do this so early, but eventually she agreed.  She was not sure if Bog would want to, but they could always try.

As Marianne got ready to turn off the radio for the night and go to bed in preparation for work, one last Electric Light Orchestra song came on, making her pause for a moment to listen and smile and as she considered how it applied to her and Bog.  When “Shine a Little Love” finished, she turned off the radio. 

Dawn came back inside from seeing Sunny out.  She inwardly jumped for joy at seeing the content smile on Marianne’s face. 

“Oh, Marianne, speaking of music and receptions, I had a random question about Boggy.  Do you think he knows how to dance?”

Marianne puzzled for a moment and then said, “I’m not sure, but I’ll make sure to ask him if you’re that worried.  He doesn’t seem like the dancing type, though.”

“Thanks, Sis,” said Dawn with an impish grin.  Dawn had many happy thoughts of her sister and Bog dancing together later on in the reception that she wanted to have happen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: Whew, so many songs. This is as close to being a jukebox musical as it gets, except for maybe the next chapter. I knew this one would be chock full of songs since they needed to get their frustrations about love out. When I plan stories, I make a list of songs I want to include, but more always end up popping in as I write. 
> 
> But (insert Plum banging a drum here) this chapter marks the halfway point in the story, and with it and much sharing comes a change in dynamic between them. The fluff and cuteness has only gotten started. Also, for the record, I love the movie Love Actually; I’m happy to laugh at myself, though, with help from the Honest Trailer. That will probably be my only reference to the upcoming Christmas season. If you want more of that, I highly suggest checking out the Christmas story I have started for these two. Once that story is out of my system, this will get updated again. Thanks so much for all your support of this story! I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoyed reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: No, I don’t own Strange Magic, or any songs that I mention in this story. All rights go to their respective owners. I saw Strange Magic and fell in love with Bog and Marianne. Then I saw fanart and fanfic, and this happened. I’m very fond of adding music where I can, so I make no apologies for changing lyrics, just like certain kings did. This is an AU of Strange Magic, also without Bog’s wonderful brogue, as I am terrible with certain accents. My apologies for that. I know the Sunny and Dawn relationship is skipped over for now, but I promise you’ll hear more about it soon. It’s appropriately sweet, and involves renaissance festivals. Did I mention that I’m very fond of renaissance festivals? I hope you enjoyed it!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [My Strange Magic Fanfiction](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4456706) by [Random_DATA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_DATA/pseuds/Random_DATA)




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